


Artistry

by greenkangaroo



Category: Naruto
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Canon-Typical Violence, Dismemberment, Gen, Gore, pre-chunin exam Gaara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 18:53:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10668729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenkangaroo/pseuds/greenkangaroo
Summary: Artistic talent runs in the family. A rewrite of an old piece.





	Artistry

Kankuro was almost finished disposing of the body when Gaara found him. It had been a Kuroari job, by the look of the bones, surprisingly white in the dark red mush of organ and meat.

Kankuro knew Gaara was there- had the same sixth sense that Temari did, an inevitable development when your third team member wasn't entirely trustworthy- but he didn't slow which meant he was focused. A focused Kankuro was a rare and interesting sight, and so Shukaku was quiet. 

Gaara paused where the trees broke into the half-clearing where the nearby village had put its well. He watched Kankuro fill the bucket of the well with pieces and carefully swing it back into the stone shaft. He cranked it down and twitched a finger, using a chakra-string to silently dump the bloody contents. 

It was the only well for miles. 

No matter. They had orders to wipe the place out anyway. Literally- "Scrubbed from the face of the earth" had been used in their official mission parameters. It wasn't like a diseased water supply would deny Shukaku blood. 

"He was not a puppeteer." Gaara didn't ask it like a question but Kankuro had had years to learn his brother's not-tone tones.

"No, he wasn't." Kankuro couldn't help but scowl down at the severed head he was holding by its long, clay-dyed braids. "Moron. Wouldn't know a puppeteer from a Border Patrol _chunin_.." He sounded personally affronted.

"You let him think that you believed he was." Gaara said with some censure. 

"Yes."

"So that he would follow you here." 

"Mhm." 

"Why?"

Kankuro considered this for a moment, leaning on the edge of the well. The blood spatters on his face and arms seemed like ink splots in the moonlight, or stray daubs of the paint that covered the blank white canvas of his face. The severed head, with its expression of slightly horrified surprise, balanced between the puppeteer's knees as he twirled two dreadlocks like a jump rope. He tilted his head, blinking at the night sky, then looked back at his brother.

"Because it was fun." He said with a shrug and a carefree grin that showed far too many teeth and didn't quite reach his eyes.

Gaara considered this for a while, then nodded.

"Can you teach me that trick?" he asked. "With the eyes and the kunai? I don't think the Sand could do it so neatly."

Kankuro nodded. "Sure, Gaara." He looked at what was left of the body. It would require bigger tools than he could reliably summon and though the last scout hadn't exactly engineered confidence in this particular village's patrols, losing even a smidge of the element of surprise was unacceptable. Of course he could keep dismembering with a wakizashi but Gaara seemed to be a in decent sort of mood. 

"Uh, I know this is sort of short-notice, but could you-" Kankuro began. He didn't get the chance to finish before the Sand flowed from the gourd in a small stream, wrapping itself around the last few bloody bits and squeezing. When it dribbled away there was nothing left. 

"Thanks." Kankuro said, standing and turning around. 

he gently, delicately, put the severed head in the bucket and lowered it down. It made the barest little splash. When Kankuro cranked the bucket back up, it was empty. 

"Prayers for the victorious dead." Kankuro said piously, then grinned. "Puppeteer my ass. I suppose I should go get rid of most of this blood before they realize they've lost another scout." He glanced at Gaara as they headed into the trees. "You want the rest of them? Temari got the last two, so you're up."

"If you don't mind."

"Nah," Kankuro said, "art is tiring."

"My brother." Gaara said deadpan, "the artist."

Kankuro's laughter echoed through the trees.


End file.
